


Lookin' Up

by Luka z Rivii (wayward_dream)



Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, I've never written a coffee shop au before, Jaskier is a street musician, Modern AU, coffee shop AU, he wears eyeliner you can't change my mind, i hope i did it justice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-05
Updated: 2020-05-05
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:42:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24028333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wayward_dream/pseuds/Luka%20z%20Rivii
Summary: You finally work up the nerve to talk to the cute musician always performing outside your little cafe.
Relationships: Jaskier | Dandelion & Reader, Jaskier | Dandelion/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 54





	Lookin' Up

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ficsandcatsandficsandcats](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ficsandcatsandficsandcats/gifts).



> For the lovely Kat, who asked for a coffee shop au with Jaskier for her birthday. Here you are, darling, I hope I did it justice <3  
> Title is from Sheryl Crow's "Soak Up The Sun".

The bell above the door dinged and you heard it.

He was back.

A huge smile split your face as the customer approached the counter, the sounds of a guitar and a bassy, growling but somehow still lyrical voice fading as the door swung shut again. Your thoughts raced as you worked on filling the customer’s order.

He’d been performing outside your little cafe almost every day for a month now, singing and sometimes even dancing a bit. Sometimes he had a saxophone, sometimes a guitar, sometimes a violin, and on a couple of memorable occasions it had been a lute. Most of his songs were original, from what you’d heard, and he was quite good. You wondered if he was a music student, or if this was just a hobby he indulged. You’d never had the nerve to ask, but all your coworkers knew about your crush on the enigmatic busker.  _ Julian,  _ he always had you scrawl on the side of his cup.

But the last few days he’d been conspicuously absent, and you’d worried. Hell, you’d  _ missed him, _ missed the cheer he brought with his music and the bright warmth of his friendly chatter and gregarious presence. Seeing him, hearing him perform, never failed to brighten your day, and your heart lifted as you caught the familiar sound of his voice drifting in from outside.

Today was the day. You were finally going to talk to him. Beyond just taking his order and telling him to have a nice day. The thought filled your stomach with butterflies as you handed over the drink.

It wasn’t that he was unfriendly. Quite the opposite, actually - whenever he came in he was very polite, did most of the talking and always tipped well. Sometimes he just filled his order and left, and you were always a bit disappointed when that happened. But other times, he claimed a booth by the window, pulled out a notebook, and spent hours scribbling away, lost in another world as the sunlight streamed through the window, gilding him in golden light that lit up his chestnut hair and drew your gaze, making it impossible for you to focus. You’d lost count of how many spills you’d had to wipe up just because you’d been staring at him.

But you could never work up the nerve to approach him. The idea of trying to speak to him outside of your customer service persona left your heart in your throat and your stomach in knots, and you always chickened out.

Not today. Today was the day. You were going to talk to him.

You waited until your first break. You whipped off your apron and shook your hair free of its messy bun, running your fingers through it hastily. You prepared his usual order - you had it memorized by now, as stalkerish as that made you feel, you hoped it would be a conversation starter. Taking a deep breath, you grabbed the cup, steeled your nerve, and pushed the door open before you could change your mind.

Your breath caught in your throat when you saw him. He was wearing black skinny jeans that were torn in the knees, and a rich burgundy dress shirt that was absolutely stunning on him, a few buttons undone showing off a light dusting of hair on his chest. If you weren’t mistaken, he also wore a bit of eyeliner and silver hoops dangled from his ears, flashing in the sunlight nearly as bright as his smile. He had a strong presence that demanded to be  _ seen _ , and his voice rang out clear as he sang, impossible to ignore.

He was dazzling and you were so,  _ so _ screwed.

There was a small audience gathered around him, and the open guitar case next to him was glittering with coins and full of crumpled bills. Swallowing hard, you took a deep breath and wriggled through to the front of the gathered crowd, your heart hammering.

As he finished his song there was polite applause, a few more bills tossed in the case as people began to disperse, talking amongst themselves.

The musician took a deep breath, raking a hand through his hair, making it stand on end as he crouched and began counting the money in his guitar case. Biting your lip, you took a step forward.

“Hi.” You were mortified that you were barely able to whisper, he probably hadn’t even heard you. He didn’t look up so you cleared your throat and tried again. “Um, h-hello? Julian?” you forced out, heart racing when sapphiric eyes flicked up to meet yours.  _ He looks tired, _ you thought, before he was offering a dazzling smile and standing up straight.

“Oh, hello. Y/N, isn’t it?” he greeted you, tucking his hands casually in his pockets.

“You--you know my name?” you stammered.

His grin brightened a bit, seeming a bit more genuine as he tilted his head towards you. “Well I’ve seen it on your name tag nearly every day for a month, and you always make my coffee exactly right. I’d be a bit of an arse to not remember you. What can I do for you?” he asked.

You realized you were gaping at him and mentally slapped yourself. “O-oh, nothing, I just--um. This is for you.” You held out the paper cup of coffee you’d made for him, feeling heat creep up your cheeks. “Your usual,” you murmured shyly.

“Oh, thank you!” he enthused, nimble fingers brushing against yours as he took it. He tipped his head back and took a long drink, and your eyes were glued to the elegant arch of his throat, tracking the motion as he swallowed. After a moment he met your gaze again, smiling warmly. “What do I owe you, dear heart?”

“Oh, no it--it’s on the house,” you faltered, flushing at the pet name. “Your performance draws in business anyways, don’t worry about it - and it was, um, it was really just an excuse to come talk to you, anyways.”

“Oh, really?” His smile turned sly and he slid a step closer. “And you’re sure there’s  _ nothing _ I can do to repay your kindness?”

“I...um….” Words abandoned you completely as you gazed up into his eyes, biting your lip.

“Are you busy?” he asked, and your heart skipped a beat.

“I--I’m on my break, right now, but my shift ends at 3,” you told him breathlessly. Was this real? Was this happening?

“Well, are you busy after that?” he asked a bit wryly.

You shook your head hastily. “No, not--not at all.”

“Well, in that case, would you mind me keeping you company? We could wander the town, maybe go sit in the park, grab a bite to eat. How does that sound?”

“Yes--yeah, yes, I--I would like that,” you managed to reply. “But I should, um--” You glanced towards the coffee shop, your break was ending soon.

“I’ll let you get back to work for now. But...thank you, for the coffee. I really appreciate it. I’ll see you at three?” he asked with a sweet, soft smile that left you melting and weak inside.

“Right. I’ll see you then, Julian.” You turned to go back inside but his hand caught yours, making you pause and look at him questioningly.

Looking up at you from under his lashes, he bent to press a kiss to the back of your hand, warm breath tickling your skin as he murmured, “Call me Jaskier.”

“J-Jaskier, then,” you stammered, breathless, watching him with wide eyes. His lips turned up at the corners, squeezing your hand before releasing you, reaching past you to hold the door open for you. “Oh. Thank you.” You offered him a tentative smile as you rushed back inside, hastily tying your hair back and pulling your apron back on.

You were barely settled behind the counter before the door chimed open and he strolled in. He caught your gaze and winked, raising his cup towards you in a sort of salute as he sauntered over to his usual booth. You ducked your head and offered a shy smile in return, giving him a little wave. Then your attention was demanded by the customer stepping up to the counter, and you distractedly greeted him and filled his order, gaze frequently darting to Jaskier, who always seemed to sense your gaze and glanced up from his notebook to smile at you.

_ Three o’clock, _ you reminded yourself as you cleaned up your workspace.  _ Just make it to three o’clock. _

Glancing at Jaskier again, absently biting the tip of his pen as he stared down at the page, your heart swelled, and you knew you were in for the longest shift you’d ever worked. Shaking your head with a faint smile, you went back to work, well aware that there was a blush coloring your cheeks and not caring one bit.


End file.
